Violet Horizons
by Troo16
Summary: Violet Evans, the youngest of the Evans girls, has been in a magically-induced coma for the past thirteen-odd years. Severus Snape torments himself daily for his role in her capture and torture at the hands of the Dark Lord. The middle Evans girl always assumed that his love laid with her and only her. Oh, how wrong she was. Severus/OC. Slow Burn. Rated M. Warnings are inside.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hello, fellow Potterheads! I've had the idea for this fic bouncing around in my head for a while now, and I'm so happy to finally be sharing it with you all. I'll attempt to update as often as I can. I have 5-6 full chapters written and ready to go, so for the next month, I can promise weekly updates.**

 **This story will contain dark themes. I know ya'll are gonna do what you want, but I do recommend this fanfic for adult or mature audiences only. It will contain triggers such as self-mutilation, talk of suicide, sexual assault, torture, and murder. I will not include any specific trigger warnings at the beginning of each chapter, as that could potentially spoil the story. However, if a chapter contains graphic or sensitive material that may trigger some audiences, I promise to preface that chapter with a very obvious ***CONTENT WARNING***. Reader discretion is advised.**

 **Disclaimer:** _ **Harry Potter**_ **and all of its affiliations belong to the majestic J.K. Rowling. This fanfiction has been published for entertainment purposes only.**

 **Now, without further ado, I present to you** _ **Violet Horizons**_ **.**

* * *

 **Prologue**

It was well after visiting hours for patients at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Eunice J. Beetlegoode's Ward for Magically-Induced Coma Patients was darkened. The Head Mediwitch was dozing at her desk, blissfully unaware of the dark shadow that had managed to break into the ward and slip, unnoticed, into Room 408.

The lanky man whose hair was as black as an oil spill stalked over to the only bed in the room. A woman, who appeared to be no older than twenty-five, was resting peacefully. A soft golden light seemingly encased her, and the man knew this to be simple hospital procedure. The light shone gold to signify that her vitals were alright. This color faded or changed completely based on if there were any changes – good or bad – to her overall health.

He summoned a chair so that he could sit comfortably by her side.

"Your bloody nephew and his blasted friends are up to their usual shit," he began, as if picking up on an unfinished conversation.

Of course, she didn't respond.

He gazed at her with intense obsidian eyes, willing her to wake up. And – just like the hundreds of times he'd tried in the past – it didn't work. He cursed himself for his own foolishness, but kept his eyes locked on the gentle thrum of magic that was centered at her belly. It was soft and blue in color – almost like a mist. Enveloped by the golden glow, it was nearly invisible and went easily unnoticed if you weren't looking for it.

"This is the umpteenth time I've almost died for that boy," he sneered. "Unappreciative little prat. Just like his father."

She said nothing in response. So he continued.

"And this time, it was Remus _fucking_ Lupin. Again. With his bloody Lycanthropy."

She twitched her fingers ever so slightly, but this small action still caught his eye. He paused for a moment, staring at her with his unwavering gaze. The twitching stopped. There was no rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. Only the blue mist that encased her core, whipping lightly around her midsection like a hazy fog. This was the only way he could tell for certain that she was still alive.

He grasped her hand that was so tiny and so cold in comparison to his.

"Despite the fact that his wolf nearly slaughtered me and three children," he said, "the arrogant prick did discover a solution to our problem. I just need time – six months' time to be exact. And then we'll have you back."

His eyes danced over the multitude of scars that littered her arms, lingering longer on the vicious mark that started underneath her left earlobe and ended somewhere on her chest. He grit his teeth, as unwanted memories flashed in the darkest recesses of his mind.

He lifted her hand slowly to his lips, closing his eyes.

"I _will_ make this right," he said with an urgency to his voice. "I _will_ bring you back, Violet."

He pressed a tender and longing kiss to the back of her hand, beginning to feel the hot, prickling sensation of tears in his eyes. He let them fall. He felt it would be grossly disrespectful towards her to deny himself the human action of crying, considering that _she_ was the one who'd taught him how to express such… emotion.

"Until tomorrow night," he whispered. And then, he was gone.

* * *

 **A/N 2: Chapter 1 will be up either this upcoming Friday or Saturday! Stay tuned!**


	2. Chapter 1: A Siren's Song

**A/N: I'm so glad you guys decided to stick around! Thank you so much for the faves and follows. Feel free to drop a comment or two!**

 **Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all of its affiliations belong to the majestic J.K. Rowling. This fanfiction has been published for entertainment purposes only.**

 *****CONTENT WARNING*****

 **Chapter 1: A Siren's Song**

 **July 1975**

A bang sounded from the kitchen, and Violet Evans wondered for the third time that morning what she'd done to be cursed with not just one, but _two_ Mauraders for the summer. She groaned and climbed unwillingly out of bed, knowing that any attempt to go back to sleep would be met with the same result. Although it was only 7 o'clock in the morning, Sirius Black and James Potter insisted on starting a housefire in her family's kitchen – or, as they called it, "making breakfast".

She threw on her robe and quickly descended down the stairs. She met Petunia in the doorway of the kitchen. Her eldest sister was absolutely livid, her pinched and narrowed features flushed bright red with seething anger. And with good reason for once.

The boys were covered from head-to-toe in what looked to be flour or pancake mix. Wet batter dripped from the ceiling and hit the polished wood flooring with loud _plops_. Mrs. Evans's favorite blender, caked with partially dried pancake mix, lay on its side on the floor, still pitifully whirring. A dark substance was bubbling away on the stove. If the smell was anything to go by, the dubious duo had attempted to make scrambled eggs. Violet was actually impressed that they'd managed so far to keep the mess from catching fire.

"Nice culinary skills, boys," Violet said, leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed. "Although, I do believe that those eggs are supposed to be yellow, or even golden-brown in color."

"Oh, sod off," Sirius replied, dusting pancake mix from his jumper. "And Tuney, love, shut your mouth before anymore bugs have the misfortune of flying in."

Petunia's eye twitched at the unwelcomed nickname. She closed her mouth with a snap and darted out of the room.

"Oi, Vi!" James exclaimed. "Get over here and give us a hand, yeah?"

Violet turned her nose up at them both. "You're my sister's houseguests, not mine. Get Lily to help you."

James fiddled with the stove in an attempt to turn it off again. Violet sighed at the pathetic sight and strode over to him.

"Really James," she said. "You've been visiting for how many summers now and you _still_ don't know how to work a simple muggle stovetop?"

He smiled sheepishly. "Thanks, Vi."

"For what? I just preferred not to see my childhood home burned to the ground. With us in it, no less. "

Sirius was about to fire back with a witty response, but was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening.

James's face lit up. "That's Lily!"

At Violet's questioning look, he clarified, "We sent her to the corner market to get orange juice."

"Even though it tastes nothing like pumpkin juice," Sirius murmured under his breath.

Violet cocked an eyebrow at them both. "You sent my sister to get juice at 7 o'clock in the morning?"

Both of the boys shrugged at this. Violet knew they were used to waking up in the wee hours of the morning since Gryffindor Quidditch practice was typically held between 5 and 6 AM, before the start of breakfast and classes.

Lily walked in with a smile on her face that quickly transformed into an incredulous expression.

"James! Sirius!" she exclaimed.

"Violet already gave us an earful, princess," Sirius said nonchalantly. Violet cringed at the way he addressed her sister. "Can you help us?"

"I see you boys are in very capable hands here," Violet said. "I'll be taking my leave now." She flicked two fingers towards the Marauders in a mock salute and bolted up the stairs to her bedroom. She knew that Lily had a temper to rival Petunia's, and would have everything sorted within the hour. That was not an explosion she was in a hurry to see.

 _And yet_ , Violet thought, _all three will have made up by tea time_.

She snorted, and began getting ready for her day. She was meeting up with Severus later to visit Diagon Alley. It was their summer ritual – stock up on light reading material at Flourish and Blotts, pop into the Apothecary to check out new brewing ingredients for Severus's side projects, stop by Eyelops Owl Emporium so Violet could play with the wide array of baby owls (much to Severus's bemusement), and finish with lunch at the Leaky Cauldron. Violet was extremely happy for their plans today – anything to escape the madhouse that had become her home for the summer.

The front door opened and slammed shut, signaling Petunia's departure. Violet winced; her oldest sister did very little to hide her resentment towards anything magical. Unfortunately, this included her two younger sisters as well. Lily was completely blind to it, but Violet could see it clear as day. Petunia had not wanted to spend to spend a single moment alone with either of them since they were all very small – before the girls began showing signs of their magical abilities. The harder Violet pushed, the more Petunia pulled, until the youngest Evans girl decided to just leave it to fate.

Violet showered and dressed quickly, eager to get on with her day with her childhood best friend (who just so happened to be one of the most talented wizards in her sister's year). She threw her curly auburn hair – which was so strikingly similar to Lily's that she was thankful for the abundance of curls that set her apart, even though it sometimes made it look like she had a rat's nest sitting atop her head – in a high ponytail. She considered plaiting it in a traditional French braid, but decided against it. Her hair was still damp from her shower, and the frizz later wouldn't be worth the hassle. She contemplated asking Severus to brew her a batch of knock-off Sleekeazy's to make it easier to tame for the humid summer. He really denied her nothing. Plus, he wanted to complete his Mastery in Potions once he graduated Hogwarts, so he really could use the practice.

She smiled cheekily. It was a win-win scenario.

* * *

Every time she stepped onto Spinner's End, a shiver rand down Violet's back. The poverty-stricken neighborhood with more uninhabited homes than not was miles different from the rest of Cokeworth – particularly the affluent part of town the Evans family resided. Severus really was the "boy from the wrong side of the tracks". Petunia often warned her to stay away from him. A warning that, of course, Violet ignored. She knew that Petunia's grievances with the company her baby sister kept stemmed more from her own prejudices than genuine concern for her safety. Violet just didn't understand where that prejudice came from. Both of their parents were physicians and their family was fairly well-off, yes, but Mr. And Mrs. Evans were exceedingly humble and probably didn't have a single prejudiced bone in their body. They looked down on no one, and they expected the same from their children.

The young girl was startled out of her thoughts when she nearly tripped over a homeless man who was sleeping on the sidewalk underneath a pile of newspapers. He opened his eyes slightly and glowered at her. She scampered around him, knowing he'd likely grumble and go right back to sleep.

Severus's home loomed in the distance. There was really nothing special about the house other than the fact that it was the last one on Spinner's End. It looked like all the others – dilapidated, dull, and just... not lived in.

She reached the door and before she could knock, it swung open. Severus stood before her, features hardened, with a finger held to his lips to tell her to keep quiet. He held the door open wider and motioned her inside. She didn't have to wonder for very long why he wanted her to stay quiet. Passing the small sitting room, she caught a glimpse of Tobias Snape. The sorry excuse for a father sat passed out in a threadbare armchair. The strong stench of alcohol permeated the air, seemingly radiating from his pores. His clothes were dirty, and it was quite obvious that he hadn't showered in days. Several bottles of gin surrounded the armchair; a few of them were even broken. Alcohol stained the carpet, embedding its scent deep in the flooring. The Snape home always reeked of spirits, and would likely continue to do so until the abusive drunkard died in his chair.

The two teenagers deftly climbed the rickety old stairs, making sure to skip the seventh step, which would have most certainly woken Tobias with its loud screech. They reached the second-floor landing and beelined for Severus's room.

"Impeccably clean as always, Sev," Violet said with a grin once they'd closed the door behind them. The boy was a neat freak, but it was honestly refreshing, considering the hell she'd just come from. She sat down on his immaculately made bed, crossing her legs and waiting for him to finish getting ready.

He shrugged with a joyful grin that belied his tired appearance. At fifteen years old, he already seemed to have the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was the most austere and fractious teen she knew. But he'd allowed himself to let his guard down for both her and Lily, for much different reasons.

Severus met Lily first. His fascination with meeting another magical being that was not his neglectful mother bordered on obsession, and his crush on her developed swiftly afterwards. Violet could understand why – Lily was naturally beautiful, naturally talented, intelligent, and ambitious. But her sister was completely oblivious to Severus's feelings towards her. Not to mention that she fancied the pants off of James Potter, wherein lied the problem.

James Potter. Gryffindor prince. Obnoxious, overconfident prat extraordinaire. Quidditch jock. Arrogant. And a bully, to round it all out.

He'd tormented Severus from the moment the two met. Sirius was convinced that the rivalry between them had manifested itself out of Severus's "jealousy" towards James's Quidditch abilities. But Violet knew the truth – James, with his spoiled and pampered upbringing, had insulted Severus's secondhand robes before they'd even boarded the Hogwarts Express to begin their first year at Hogwarts. Severus was proud, even as a child, and retaliated out of anger fueled by his embarrassment. He hit James with a nasty stinging hex that gave the bespectacled boy charley horse after charley horse for the next ten minutes. When Severus recounted the tale in a letter by owl, she'd almost wet herself from laughing so hard.

From that moment on, Severus and James were sworn enemies. Which wasn't entirely fair, in Violet's opinion. James had an entire posse that wasn't afraid to get their hands dirty, and Severus had only the Evans sisters. But, again, Severus was too proud and too stubborn. He refused to tattle on his group of tormentors, choosing instead to go the very Slytherin route of getting even... no matter how many times he landed himself in detention while his bullies got away without consequence. It was infuriating, and what was worse? Lily damn near worshipped the ground James Potter walked on.

 _Well... okay, that was an exaggeration._

But the fact that Lily didn't go very far out of her way to condemn James's actions towards their childhood best friend left a very bitter taste in Violet's mouth. All three Evans sisters knew what Severus came from – the beatings, the torture, the mental and verbal abuse he endured on a consistent basis at the hands of his parents. It turned Violet's stomach to think that Lily would willingly hang out with his bullies, knowing the dark boy's background. All because she fancied James (though she'd be caught dead admitting it). It was disgusting, really.

"All set then?" she asked Severus, who was securing his knapsack on his shoulder.

The tall boy nodded. "I actually may be able to afford a better quality cauldron. But we shall see."

Violet smiled at him. "You know that I have no problem making up the difference, Sev."

"And you know that I do not care for charity, Violet."

"It's _not_ charity," she sighed with a roll of her eyes. "It's called being a good friend. You need a really good cauldron, especially with O.W.L.s coming up."

He stared at her for a long time, with a hardened set to his jaw. His nod was slow, imperceptible, and Violet would have missed it if she hadn't been looking for it.

She smiled softly at the teen as he cleared his throat and shuffled out of the room, motioning for her to follow him to the Floo connection that was housed in the attic. She knew brewing was important to him, and he was damn good at it. But he really had no one beyond her and Lily to foster his passion for the art. It earned him a pretty knut at school, brewing simplistic remedies that tasted far better than the Hospital Wing's concoctions that were received from an American seller. He was most known for his contraceptive potions. And given that his variation didn't taste like actual vomit like the contraceptive Madam Pomfrey handed out – without the judgmental stare of the old matron – fifth years and up lined up outside of the Slytherin common room. Violet was extremely proud of his entrepreneurship and his complete willingness to provide for himself when both of his parents refused to.

Her smile still lingered at the corners of her mouth as she disappeared into the flaming walls of the Floo, much to Severus's confusion.

* * *

The hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley combined with the intense heat of a mid-July Britain afternoon left Violet and Severus feeling entirely too irritable after their shopping. They were too hot and tired to even attempt to travel back to the opposite end of the alley for lunch at the Leaky. Violet took the initiative and steered them into Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour that was adjacent to Potage's Cauldron Shop.

They sat opposite each other, enjoying bowls of watermelon sorbet after having already devoured a shared basket of fish and chips. In between bites of the cold treat, Violet vented about the madhouse that was waiting for her back home.

"And James is _constantly_ leaving the toilet seat up!" She stabbed at her sorbet with her spoon, imagining it was the Gryffindor's smug little face.

"The nerve of him," Severus drawled.

"Exactly!" Violet nodded her head vigorously in agreement. "Don't even get me started on what happened this morning. I woke up numerous times to loud banging from the kitchen, and then I – "

"Your first mistake," Severus smirked, "was not fully awakening the initial time you heard such noises, knowing that both Black and Potter are occupying your home."

Violet leaned forward slowly, and flicked his forehead, eliciting an "ow!" from the now glowering teenager.

"And _then_ I finally woke up to this humungous racket," she continued. "Severus, they almost burned the house down! The eggs were nearly black, there was crap all on the ceiling, and they were both covered from head-to-toe in pancake mix. It was all very upsetting!"

"Am I right to assume that they weren't justifiably hexed?" Severus questioned, rubbing the area of his forehead where he'd been assaulted.

Violet sighed. "No, they weren't. But I'm pretty sure Lily gave them an extra earful _and_ forced them to clean it up."

A wicked smirk formed on Severus's face. "Without magic, considering they're still underage."

"Precisely," Violet responded, with a gleam in her eye that matched her best friend's dark smirk.

"By the way," Severus said, his face sinking deeper into a mischievous smile, "when will Mr. and Mrs. Evans be due back from their Paris vacation? I would so enjoy meeting my classmates outside of an educational setting, but two more parties would be far too crowded for my liking."

" _Sev_ ," Violet warned.

He shoved another spoonful of sorbet into his mouth in response, looking the perfect picture of innocence.

By the time they'd finished and paid for their food, they were significantly cooled down enough to the point where they could leisurely stroll down the Alley and window shop. Severus had been able to purchase his new, top of the line Madam Malkerie Series 400 Copper Cauldron. He'd paid 32 galleons for it – nearly all of his savings – and still had enough money to pick up a few ingredients at the Apothecary as well as his school supplies for fifth-year. He'd sullenly let Violet pick up the tab for lunch, which she was more than happy to do.

"Oh, Severus!" she exclaimed, and proceeded to drag him into Twilfitt and Tatting's, much to his chagrin.

Neither student could afford the expensive robes and clothing from the shop that was a favorite of the more elite wizarding world. But that didn't stop Violet from trying on some of the pointed hats and intricate jewelry. She forced Severus into a dressing room and made him try on a couple of incredibly dashing traveling cloaks.

"Wait a minute, Sev," she cried, before he could escape her exuberant presence by retreating back into the dressing room. She dug into her bag to retrieve her painfully obvious muggle-made camera.

Severus groaned and once again tried to bolt back into the dressing room, but stopped when he caught sight of a tall blond striding towards them.

"Ah, Severus!" Lucius Malfoy called. "Fancy seeing you here."

He surprised Violet, who dropped her camera with a loud clatter that attracted the disapproving stares of other clients. She scrambled to pick it up, looking it over for any severe damage.

"And... Severus's pet," Malfoy sneered, finally acknowledging the witch.

Before Violet could whip her venomous tongue in the arrogant prick's direction, Severus stepped in.

"She's not my pet, Malfoy," he said simply. "What do you want?"

The pureblood wizard stared down his aristocratic nose at the muggle-born witch with thinly veiled derision, like she was a pest he wished to eliminate. Violet's hand twitched toward the wand that was sheathed at her hip. Of course, this did not go unnoticed by either Slytherin, and Malfoy quickly schooled his face.

"I just wanted to wish you well," he purred, inspecting a fingernail on his perfectly manicured hand. "You'll be sitting your O.W.L.s at the end of this upcoming school year."

"Thank you for the well wishes," Severus responded genuinely. "I intend to pass them all with an Outstanding."

"And indeed, you will," Malfoy smirked. "Just ensure you aren't... distracted. Your future is very bright and you have a lot of people counting on you."

The way he'd said that last bit made Violet's stomach churn. What "people" was he talking about?

Severus seemed to know, and nodded once in understanding. Malfoy then turned on his heel and left the shop without another word.

Severus turned to face her. "Can we leave now?"

* * *

"I just don't see why you hang out with that creep, Sev."

She was giving him an earful for his affiliations – which was _his_ business, thank you very much – and he just didn't want to deal with it.

"The Malfoys were there for me, Violet," he finally snapped. "They were there for me when _your sister_ started dodging me at every turn because she let an age-old prejudice between Gryffindor and Slytherin Houses get between our friendship."

Violet's expression softened as she watched him pack the day's purchases away in a closet in the attic. They'd returned to his home in complete silence, and he'd probably suspected he was in the clear before she started going off on him. She didn't want to let the encounter with Lucius Malfoy go that easily, but after seeing how quickly he began to raise his defenses against her onslaught, she decided to try a different approach.

"Lily loves you, Sev," she replied, and paused to choose her next words very carefully. "She just... doesn't like that you're so drawn to the Dark Arts, and she doesn't know how to deal with that properly, I suppose. It really has nothing to do with the house rivalry."

Severus scoffed. "Her abhorrence for me grows every time she sees me, and my mild interest in the Dark Arts has little to nothing to do with that."

" _Is_ it mild, Severus?" Violet whispered. Her bright blue eyes, shimmering like two tiny lagoons, sought his volcanic black ones. They stared at each other for only a moment until he looked away. He refused to acknowledge her fear for him. He knew what he was doing.

"You needn't worry yourself about me," he stated.

"If I don't, who will?"

Something struck within him and, all of a sudden, he wanted to be anywhere but in her presence. There was something – _something –_ about the youngest Evans girl that made him want to prove himself to her, desperately. And when she looked at him like... well, like _that_ , he felt as though he was failing her. And the thought of failing Violet Evans made him feel empty. Cold.

"You should be getting home," he managed to say. "I don't want you walking the streets of my neighborhood whilst it's dark out. Let me escort you to the door."

She begrudgingly allowed him to see her out, choosing not to fight him on the matter. He was shutting down for the day, and she knew that the harder she pushed him, the more he would resist. She would try again another day.

Severus retreated upstairs to his bedroom after he'd watched Violet make it safely down the near-deserted streets of Spinner's End. Tobias was likely at work; the bastard had somehow managed to secure a job at the nearby food processing plant. Given his drinking habits, he would lose it within a month's time. Severus had no clue where his mother was, and hadn't for the past week or so. This was normal for her – she would disappear for days, weeks, months on end. She'd once gone missing for a consecutive eight months when Severus was six years old. He'd been sure she was dead... until she returned one day only to fuck his father, collect some of her clothes, and leave again for three more weeks.

Putting his parents out of his mind, Severus climbed the rickety stairs. He skipped the seventh step only out of habit, and reached his bedroom in a few long strides. He quickly closed and locked the door.

 _Just to be safe_ , he thought.

He longed for the day he finally came of age in the wizarding world so that he could use his magic outside of school without running the risk of being expelled. He so desperately wished he could cast the strongest, most vicious wards on his door. So powerful and so brutal that anyone who attempted to enter would be severely burned and blasted back at least fifty feet.

But the simplistic muggle locking mechanism would have to do for now.

The shoebox underneath his tiny, twin-sized bed was calling to him. The voice was sweet and tender and oh, so gentle. It provided him with a sense of comfort that he received nowhere else; like a siren coaxing him forward with lyrics of promise that everything would be alright.

His breath quickened as his long, spindly fingers hovered over the shoebox. The calling was louder – it crushed him, blurred his vision. He could see nothing else but the black box he now held in his hands. He caressed the top, and removed the lid in one fluid motion. Glistening silver sparkled like gorgeous treasure before his eyes. Some were stained – those he would have to either clean or replace later – and some were brand new.

He lifted one, and it glinted lovingly in the summer's setting sun. A sick emotion mixed with one-part bitterness and two-parts desire overcame him, and he thrust his sleeve up, exposing the pale flesh of his forearm that was already marred with angry, raised scars.

A line of deep red followed the path of the razor he held in his hand. The contrast between the ghostly white porcelain of his skin and the blood that pooled to the surface was just as dizzying as it was relieving. Droplets of blood glided down his wrist to his fingertips and fell to the floor. He sighed, and leaned back against the foot of his bed. After his fourth, fifth, sixth cut, the euphoria dwindled until there was nothing left except utter disgust and contempt.

 _Pathetic_.

He angrily threw the razor back into the shoebox, shoving the lot back underneath his bed. They were no longer sirens nor treasure; they were a reminder that he'd had to stoop so low to gain some semblance of power and control. They were his pain, personified. They were almost everything he hated about himself.

Severus grabbed a roll of gauze from the drawer of his bedside table. As he wrapped his wrist and forearm, he promised himself that he would awaken in the early morning hours to quickly brew a fast-acting healing balm before Violet came over for the day.

 _What would she think of me?_

He fell into a fitful sleep with that single, lonely thought occupying his mind.


End file.
